< previous page page_512 next page >

Page 512
That brought a unified howl of protest. Sir Guy held his mouth, as if he were considering the problems that would be his lot, but really it was a useful device to smother his laughter. His lady wished to make all speed. She had decided there was no danger from Painscastle. No doubts of her ability to judge such matters troubled her. Having decided, she called the men "coward"not in plain words, which would arouse anger and stubbornness, but by indirection. To her subtle insinuation there could be but one reply. When the rest period was over, they moved out and, half a mile west of Painscastle, out of sight of the keep, they moved onto the well-marked track to Clyro.
From opposite directions but only a few minutes apart, the English and Welsh approached Clyro Hill with the greatest caution. Long before they were in sight of the keep, however, both groups realized their stealth was a total waste. Crashes and screams and, thinly, the clang of metal against metal came to them. Quite obviously, no one at Clyro Hill was going to pay much attention to new arrivals if they did not make an effort to be noticed. At present theywhoever they werewere fully occupied.
"Who? Who?" Lord Llewelyn asked of no one, merely voicing his shock and frustration.
From the edge of the woods beyond the border of arable land at the foot of Clyro Hill, they could now see that a violent assault on the keep was in progress. Tiny figures climbed ladders that wavered and swayed, as men on the battlements tried to push them off. Once they saw the toy men at the bottom of one of the ladders throw up their hands, scream, fall, crawl away. They could not see the cause of the action, but most could guess. From the keep, burning oil or hot sand had been poured down upon the attackers.
The gentlemen were puzzled. Plainly, this was not the first assault. The smoking ruins of the battering ram told of at least one previous attempt. The positions

 
< previous page page_512 next page >